Ecumenical discussion founded upon historic Christian orthodoxy

Always Reforming, or Always Renewing?

Reform in church history has tended to lean more in the direction of going back to or restoring an original form, while renewal has connoted making that original form ‘new and improved.’ [Renewing Christianity: A History of Church Reform from Day One to Vatican II, pg. 10]

This is an intriguing quote for its contrast of “reform” and “renew.” To summarize Edwin Tait’s Reformanda Vs. Renovanda, the difference is this: “always reforming” is the position that asserts that we must always be seeking to upend what we have and make it conform to an ideal which we feel has been lost. By contrast, “always renewing” is the position that we must learn to grow deeper into what we already have, to make the original better than it was (or is).

Most Reformed people today never seem to ask such questions as “Can the original ever be recovered in its pristine form?” and “Can we actually undo all the things that have made us what we are today?” Affirmative answers are merely assumed, not defended. In fact, rarely is the logic of “always reforming” unpacked, so that its natural conclusion, the notion that we are to live our whole Christian lives in a constant state of emergency, conducting radical surgery every day of our lives, becomes clear. It is in this light that Edwin concludes:

“semper reformanda” is a trap when it becomes the central program of the Church. Sweep the dust away and it will start settling again immediately. Dusting is one of the duties of life (though I do it far too seldom). But if we spend all our time dusting the house we will never enjoy it. And our problems will only get worse if we decide the furniture is bad every time it gets covered with dust. We’ll bankrupt ourselves and fill our lives with chaos trying to get new furniture all the time. The sensible approach is to dust as needed and accept the fact that cleanliness will never be perfect. We need to _live_ in the house rather than always trying to make it perfectly clean.

“We need to live in the house rather than always trying to make it clean.” Something to think about as we think about what it means to “reform” the Church.

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18 Responses

Good post Tim. Has “Semper Reformanda!” become reform for reform sake? Should we not rather grow in understanding and Godliness (and no, I’m not thinking of the RC understanding of the development of doctrine)? When reformation has become an exercise in disection and analysis, we have missed the boat. Maybe I should trot out one of my favourite quotations here –

To understand the living whole
They start by driving out the soul;
They count the parts, and when all’s done,
Alas! the spirit bond is gone.

I am always struck by the contrast between the rhetoric of the early Councils and modern rhetoric with respect to theology. The ancients always looked back, and were committed to passing on only what was preserved in their collective memory (the Tradition). Modern theology, due to the influence of the university and the scientific disciplines, always looks ahead, exploring ever new frontiers of understanding. Many evangelicals look at theology as an ever expanding, evolutionary organism that changes through time. I have also seen this, unfortunately, on too many occasions in the Federal Vision writers, who speak of moving past the old Reformed confessions and frameworks do develop better theological systems. But the Reformed divines were not attempting to create a new theological system. They were simply attempting to return to the catholic Christianity of the old fathers and doctors. The Reformers consistently saw the medieval period as the time when innovations were introduced, when the Church stopped gazing backward and started forging new frontiers.

“The ancients always looked back, and were committed to passing on only what was preserved in their collective memory (the Tradition). Modern theology, due to the influence of the university and the scientific disciplines, always looks ahead, exploring ever new frontiers of understanding.”

You make an important observation here, but I believe that the underlying root of the problem runs deeper than the influence of contemporary academia. What kind of theological presuppositions and methodology do you need to cough out things like modern Evangelicalism, Penecostalism, liberation theology, Billy Graham Crusades, Olsteen spirituality, etc.? Always “reforming” would be fine if it meant something like spiritual progress, but it doesn’t. It’s more like “always recontextualizing” or “always drawing out new implications” by placing the revelatory data under new paradigms. For example, there is absolutely no way to derive or apply the Edwardsian theory of will to Chalcedonian Christology. We can’t come up with something like “irresistible grace” or monergism in soteriology unless you conceptualize the relation between divinity and humanity as that between a user and an instrument or two persons on a seesaw prior to Christological considerations.

Here we will have a difference of opinion. I have never understood the attempt to relate Chalcedonian Christology to the free will debate. In the one person of Christ, the two wills are the operations of his human and divine natures. They are not the operations of two persons (Nestorianism), nor are they two operations of one nature (Eutychianism). But in soteriology, we are speaking of the operation of the divine will upon the will of another person. That is not parallel to the hypostatic union, so I don’t see how the model can be applied to compatibilism vs. libertarianism to begin with. But in any event, Edwards’ compatibilist soteriology is not properly understood as the divine will conquering or overpowering the human will, but rather has to do with God freeing the fallen human will (another point of difference with the hypostatic union) to act with its original natural liberty.

“But the Reformed divines were not attempting to create a new theological system. They were simply attempting to return to the catholic Christianity of the old fathers and doctors. The Reformers consistently saw the medieval period as the time when innovations were introduced, when the Church stopped gazing backward and started forging new frontiers.”

But Paul,

What about all that lapsarianism? Ok, that’s second generation Reformation. Fine. You’ve still got the disputes between Reformed and Lutherans, and I have to confess having a difficult time finding in either a simple regurgitation of the early church. Whether it be law/gospel or covenant theology, I just don’t find it in my Schaff series.

I do find it developing over time, with levels of both continuity and discontinuity.

I don’t think that you can just go back. It isn’t possible to recover the church of the book of Acts, and even if it was, in doing so you’d likely recover the Church of 1 Corinthians as well.

The patristics aren’t easy, either. You’ll recover the Cappadocians, but likely not Tertullian. Augustine is a real can of worms too.

And what if the “new system” is a plea to better understand the OLD TESTAMENT? Find me one period in the history of the Church which understood the Old Testament as well as we do now.

The loss of Hebrew, which was pretty quick among the Patristics, was simply crippling. No one talked about the connections between the levitical sacrifices and the book of Genesis. Heck, the very term “sacrifice” is dubious.

Compatibilism applied to Christian dogma is heresy. Cats and dogs move voluntarily but they lack free will. If the “state of nature” (good or sinful) determines the desires which in turn determine the agent’s actions, then how does this view map out onto Christianity? The creation & redemption of the world (along with all other divine acts) are necessary; Adam’s fall is completely inexplicable (either a newly-created human nature resists the Holy Spirit or Adam’s nature was created evil); fallen man cannot turn to God freely; Christ’s human acts are determined by his nature, etc. To arrive as compatibilism, you have to gloss the person as some-THING and then attempt to pick out what in its essence makes its particular motions necessary after you choose from the plurality of available non-revelatory conceptual grids.

To make our interaction with the Holy Spirit and the Church too closely analogous to the relationship between the natures of the one person Jesus Christ is perilous ground. There are important differences that have to be stressed.

The same goes for the Bible. It has human and divine aspects, but it is not a hypostatic union.

I don’t particularly like “compatibalism” though. I think it gives too much over to the rationalist side, however, I’m not sure most people really use it to mean the whole philosophical position that it brings. They usually just mean that sovereignty and free will work together, somehow.

1. Supra and infra lapsarianism were not confessional issues. They were academic debates over the details of theology, something that the doctors of the Church had been engaged in for centuries. What I am saying is that in terms of their united theological outlook, as it is expressed in the Westminster Confession for instance, they were not looking to advance a new body of Tradition. They were simply confessing catholic Christianity within the Western tradition, with a decidedly Augustinian emphasis, and with a keen eye to Roman abuses.

2. I’ll admit I haven’t done enough research to comment in detail on to what extent the Reformed divines were breaking new ground in their discussions of covenant theology. I’m sure there’s studies out there. I would be very surprised if they did not depend upon earlier patristic exegesis in their formulation of these matters. We also have to be very careful not to confuse new terminology with new theology.

3. Whether or not they were successful (which is a distinct question), Calvin and the other Reformed writers definitely saw themselves as restoring Christianity to the purity of its patristic golden age. They appeal to the consensus of the “old fathers and doctors” and similar language again and again. Luther’s tone is admittedly out of step with the Anglican and Continental Reformed divines, as he seems happy (at times) to disparage the views of the Fathers. But even Luther on other occasions shows great respect for the patristic tradition.

4. I think we have to distinguish between biblical commentary and the Rule of Faith as a body of Tradition handed down from generation to generation. No individual person’s commentary constitutes the Tradition after all. I am not saying that modern scholarship cannot give us new insights in the discipline of exegesis and biblical studies. But the Church has certainly not needed to wait for modern critical and literary analysis of the Bible to know and be able to repeat the Rule of Faith.

I know that I am not a divine person nor do I posses divine powers by nature, what’s your point? Your criticism needs to be less ambiguous. I am not sure what to make of your remarks on compatiblism; it doesn’t matter if you “like” it, what matters is if the positions presented by representative Reformed theologians and confessions are logically equivalent or reducible to it. For Calvin, freedom IS voluntary movement or movement driven by desire. The sin of the fallen and the good works of God are both necessary due to the state of their natures but “free” because they are driven by desire.

As a plain matter of fact, your claim that “most people really use it to mean the whole philosophical position that it brings” is demonstrably false. Just check out carm.org or monergism.com. From Calvin to Edwards to Bahnsen to Piper to Frame, all you find is compatibilist construals of human and divine freedom. This is undeniably true of human freedom in the eschaton, because all the saints in the eschaton have only one object of choice. I digress; my original purpose was only to highlight the theological methodology that produces these kinds of conclusions.

Lapsarianism dominated Beza and Perkins’ entire methodology. All those neat little Ramist charts weren’t just for show. It is a tough claim to say that Westminster’s bi-covenantalism is present in the 2nd century, even in “seed form.” If you think this structure is optional, I’d point you to the recent PCA GA.

I find claims that the Reformation was simply returning to the early church to be naive and dangerous. Some of that rhetoric was certainly used, but its consistency and accuracy is dubious.

Furthermore, as NeoC is always quick to point out, the primary categories for systematic thought were noticeably different in the time of the Reformation and say the 4th century. Each generation has its “big question” and the big question for the Reformation was different than that of the Early Church.

This isn’t a bad thing, but rather something we have to notice. In my opinion, anyone who insists on one over-arching principle to solve all the questions is failing to properly reckon with the implications of the Trinity. There’s a theology proper angle, a redemption angle, and an eschatology angle, and yes these all influence each other, but no one swallows up the rest.

The Neo-Palamites, as well as some of the Barthians, show us what happens when you camp out on one doctrine. Everyone ends up being already united to Christ and thus the means of application become redundant.

Requiring all questions to be answered in the categories of Christology typically under-employs the Holy Spirit. It also minimizes or obscures completely key incongruities, such as Jesus’ unique status as divine person and virgin birth. The same can go for law and gospel, of course, and that’s where I criticize my own tradition at times.

I think Christology is a central concern, and it should always be brought to bear on whatever question we are asking, but you can’t say that a theory of Biblical inspiration that uses two persons (the human writer and the Holy Spirit) is “Nestorian.” *ahem* That’s getting pretty silly in my opinion. I could cite more on this, but enough.

We have to be willing to mature, and this requires cross-examination of all systematic questions, with a constant submission to the Bible.

As we come to better understand books like Leviticus or even 2 Chronicles, we will have questions to ask that haven’t been asked in a long time, if ever. To forbid this is simply stubborn. The claim that the church fathers already exhausted everything is one that I don’t have confidence in, and I think that any attempt to sustain it usually has to chose favorite fathers and ignore others.

We don’t want to throw their ideas out. I’ve benefited greatly from my, confessedly limited, studies of them, however, I often see, especially in 20-somethings, an over-reluctance to question certain exegesis, missed typologies, as well as even some semi-Marcionite philosophies (due to a necessary anti-Jewish demeanor) that exist among the patristics. There’s also the problem of finding “answers” to postmodern questions (escaping “being” is a favorite) in the fathers who likely never meant to address the specific issue.

Basically, I think there’s room for the new.

I’m not claiming that all insights are necessary for salvation. However, our calling is towards much more than getting saved. It is a call to perfection. It has also been my experience that as we grow up into seeing the bigger picture, many of the previous either/or dilemmas become solveable in ways they never were before.

Great points there. I couldn’t agree with you more. While I would grant Paul’s point that the Reformers saw themselves as attempting to restore the faith and worship of the early Church, I don’t think that it can be rightly claimed that this was in fact what they did. Nor do I think that such a repristination of the early Church is either possible or desirable. The Holy Spirit has been working throughout history to guide the Church, and is even now doing so. We mustn’t jump down from the shoulders of our Fathers, and this includes the Fathers of every generation, not just the first few centuries. Neither should we simply rest in the comfort provided by their shadow. Rather, we ought to make use of the view we get from sitting upon their shoulders as a means to lead us deeper into the landscape than they were themselves able to travel. This doesn’t mean beginning a new theological system. But it does mean taking their insights to new levels as led by the Holy Spirit working within the Church, speaking to her in and through Scripture.

I asked you to clarify in what way my position has failed to recognize the uniqueness of the Incarnation; you have not. Without meaning to attribute any moral fault or intellectual deficiency to you, I will simply say that I have found many of your remarks carelessly imprecise, hopelessly vague and committed to subsuming the other’s statements under one’s own paradigm without considering their meaning on the other’s terms.

I find the “Big Question” theory problematic as an explanation for apparent discontinuities in various doctrinal/eccesiological developments because it simply assumes what is under dispute, that is, underlying doctrinal continuity and possession of the same faith despite appearances. The heretics were answering their own “big questions” and were often combating perceived heresies in the orthodox position. I see no principled reason why this move could not be used to sweep every apparent contradiction under the rug. Your claim that the plurality of divergent views “isn’t a bad thing” presupposes the application of some criteria that I have no knowledge of.

What I said was that the construction of a model of divine-human relations prior to Christological considerations was a mistake in theological methodology. Your remarks about ignoring the Trinity and “under-employing” the Holy Spirit are completely irrelevant as far as the validity and truth of my original claim is concerned.

No one said that this or that theory of Biblical inspiration was Nestorian simply because there were two subjects involved. *That* is indeed a silly claim. The accusation of Nestorianism with respect to Biblical inspiration emerges from the ascription of a *separate* activity to each agent, which is based on the assumption that there are no shared (wholly human & wholly divine) activities between the human and divine subjects, which follows from an identification of the subject with its act or power to act. This confusion is the only way to make sense of the Nestorian argument that since the divine nature cannot undergo suffering or experience death that the Divine Logos could not or did not do so. The question is when we see Paul do X by divine power, can we predicate X to more than one subject or does each act imply only a single actor? The latter is only the case if persons are reducible to or nothing more than their natures and that proposition commits us to a two-person Christology.

I have to confess up front that I find your comments a bit Faulknerian in girth. I’d need to break each claim down into its multiple points, and frankly that wasn’t my intention or desire. There’s only so much you can expect out of comboxes.

Do you not think that you also subsume others statements under your paradigm? Isn’t that what the whole project has been about?

“What I said was that the construction of a model of divine-human relations prior to Christological considerations was a mistake in theological methodology. Your remarks about ignoring the Trinity and ‘under-employing’ the Holy Spirit are completely irrelevant as far as the validity and truth of my original claim is concerned. ”

But they are relevant when it comes to moving from the original claim to its ability to effectively criticize the various positions. Once we’ve considered Christology, we may also consider ways in which it is disanalogous to persons other than the unique God-man.

The same goes for the authors of the Bible. Hosea didn’t have to know the implications of “Out of Egypt I have called my son.” when he originally penned it. After the Emmaus road and subsequent hermenuetics lesson the apostles had with Jesus, however, Matthew couldn’t but know the implications.

Matthew and Hosea had seperate activities, but both were inspired by the Holy Spirit. In fact, the whole Bible has its own larger story, that transcends all of the individual authors. To say that this can’t be because it violates a certain paradigm simply shows me that the paradigm isn’t adequate for the specific topic at hand.

I’m not saying that the questions aren’t valuable to ask, but I am reserving the right to not immediately concede all of western history because a certain angle is interesting. You know, as well as I do, that Cyril carried out to one extreme is heresy, just as John of Antioch carried out to the other is heresy. The solution is allowing the validity of both’s observations to inform one another.

Perhaps you are correct about expecting you to do too much in a combox; a solution to that problem which comes to mind is to narrow the focus of discussion to the point(s) you think most important. It’s more effective to concentrate firepower on a specific area than to spray bullets everywhere.

I do not think I am guilty of intellectual prejudice and here’s why. Based on my knowledge of our shared core Christological commitments and of how I see the Reformed employ specific concepts, use various terms and arrive at certain conclusions, I claim an inconsistency between between the latter and the former. What I claimed you were doing and are still doing is hastily dismissing certain non-Reformed positions without considering their own distinctive theological presuppositions.

Next you state: “Once we’ve considered Christology, we may also consider ways in which it is disanalogous to persons other than the unique God-man.”

I have asked you twice, now three times to explain exactly HOW the position I’ve put forward fails to recognize the uniqueness of the Incarnation and you have failed to do so. Please show me an argument. You obviously have the time to compose replies to my comments, this conversation would be more edifying to the both of us if you made more of an attempt to carefully read what I write and answer my questions.

Since I honestly see absolutely no relation between the point I made about problematic theories of Biblical inspiration and your statements about Matthew and Hosea, I’ll refrain from commenting on them.

Here’s the problem with your view, in my opinion. Basically, you are either saying one of two things:
1) Modern theological advances and insights recover the genius of the original apostolic system of doctrine.
Or
2) Modern theological advances and insights improve upon the original apostolic system of doctrine.

If you say that all modern theology does is bring terminological clarity to the original apostolic system of doctrine, and perhaps clear up potential misunderstandings, then fine. But that is not really a matter of taking theology forward, but simply applying the same theology to modern needs with new vocabulary. Obviously, I would agree that that has always happened. You won’t find the specific vocabulary and phraseology of the Nicene Creed in the NT, but I would insist you WILL find the same theology.

If you say that modern theology strives to recover the pristine purity of the original apostolic system of doctrine, then you are officially an Anabaptist Radical Reformer, which the Reformed divines were not (and neither are you in reality of course). How is it that the Patristic Fathers so quickly fell away from the genius of the NT?

If you say that the apostles had no system of doctrine, and that it was the task of the later church to go on forming such a system until the Parousia, then you are putting more faith in the wisdom of modernity than the riches of prophetic revelation. Now you are essentially buying into liberal Protestantism, which thinks itself fit to improve upon the primitive religious notions of the first century. Obviously, that is not a route any of us want to take.

If none of the above views aptly describes your own, I would like to know how your position fails to reduce to one of those options.

1) Sin. Jesus, not being born of Adam, did not have the same effects of sin upon him that all other human beings do.

2) The relationship between Jesus’ humanity and deity is direct and unified in his one person. Other humans are united to Christ by the person of the Holy Spirit. Thus we have a total of 3 persons working in all of this. Furthermore the believer works in one way prior to the effectual call carried out by the Holy spirit and in a different way afterwards. Divine-human relations are affected by the time in the human’s life. There’s also the ongoing sanctification where the human will is being conformed to the divine. It gets more and more conformed as sanctification progesses.

3) Jesus assumed the old humanity and took it to the cross. He was raised in glory, the new humanity which is a life-giving Spirit, and then he went away. He sent another divine person to take old humans, still in their old humanity, and place them into the church, which is a community of multiple human persons in union with the divine person of the Logos through the agency of the Spirit, all of which are also united to each other.

So you have Christology, Pnuematology, Eschatology, and Ecclesiology to consider when thinking of soteriology. Have the Reformed always done this correctly? Certainly not.

1) We’d need to talk about “the system.” It could be the case that the system is actually much larger than the individual parts of it that various eras of the Church represent. Most people initially think of the Apostles Creed when they think of the Christian system of doctrine, but I’d like to also point out the larger narrative of Israel, temple, and holy war which we see in the Old and New Testaments.

2) I do believe that the post-Apostolic church lost a good bit of the Hebraic system. This isn’t a great apostasy, but it is a partial illiteracy.